The Doctor's Playbook
by KenderickBlazey
Summary: 1939. Gilbert hasn't seen his brother for years, but after meeting the now Nazi Ludwig, he finds out Elizaveta is in grave danger. Trying all he can do to seek her out, he falls into the hands of Josef Mengele; the infamous Angel of Death. Has he bitten off way more than he can chew? Nazis and torture contained inside. Partial Germancest. Heavy smut. Thick and kinky plotline.
1. Chapter 1

**The Doctor's Playbook**

**Book One: Contaminated Morality**

**Chapter One:**

A therapeutic chain of events

1939.

Perhaps, he should have known something was going to go wrong when Gilbert came to the bar.

It had been a while since he'd seen his brother. Ludwig, through his nation powers and connections in the higher area of the army was an officer within the top ranks for the fuhrer. Nobody ever asked him for specifics, and he never replied. Though, he'd probably never really reply if anyone actually enquired.

Either way, his duties kept him enamoured in work and a busy figure. Too busy for family and friends, and considering it was becoming more and more obvious this was the case since he'd began to miss the food his brother concocted here and there, it was obvious that the cause for contact was more desperate than ever. Gilbert wasn't a bad cook, though. Not upon the likes of England, at least. He just had…

Ideas. Interesting ideas.

He missed those ideas.

The bar bustled around him. People spoke in various murmurs, some uniformed in typical shades of inferior marks. Ludwig had removed his cap and was halfway through his third golden pint. He needed it.

"Ludwig." The blond nearly jumped. It was Gilbert. He smiled and patted the table, beckoning his brother to sit down. But the opposite nation wasn't smiling at all. Infact, his expression was almost angered, furious. It sent a schoolboy shiver down his neck, even when the Prussian was no longer his superior. "I take it that we need to talk."

"Oh, Good God." He sighed, trying to swipe away his anxieties. "You still lack support of the reich. I should have known. Brother, come on. I am powerful because of him. Because of all this. And this is a new world, one which you are outdated for. Come, sit. I can help you catch up."

He sat down, but his white brows did not move from the glare they held. "Fuck you. You're the one that needs to be knocked down a notch, Ludi. I've heard of what you did to Feliks a couple of months ago. The shit that started all this off. _I heard. _ And fuck you for not seeing me about it, you shit. I am just so angry I can't-"

He rubbed at his temples. He'd imagined this scenario a million times in his head and recited what he was about to say like a play. "You need to join the army. Then you'll get it. Read the fuhrer's book. It'll explain everything, make it all clear. Yes, you think they're human, but they are not. They aren't at all, and we need to save my people from the evils of the lesser species by giving them land. Feliks' sacrifice was a necessary ordeal."

There's a loud 'tsk' sound from Gilbert, who then in turn slaps the table. "Of all people to be brainwashed, I never thought my Ludwig would be one of them." He spits at the floor. "I'm out already. I want nothing to do with this. I thought I could speak sense to you, but clearly not." He stands up loudly, making the table shake.

"Gilbert. No. You're overreacting." He tried to console the other. Face frowning. This wasn't at all going to plan. "Please, just listen to me. Be good, for once."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" A hiss.

He rubbed at his temples again. Too much. This was too much. His head already hurt on a daily basis from inner conflict. Yes, he could deal with it naturally, but with external issues such as these alongside with it being the end of a tiring day, meant that he was at the end of his temper. "I mean that you don't listen. I have answers for you and your successful future and you should support me."

"I'm fucking supporting you, am I not? Luftwaffe, manpower, land. Does your greedy gut need more food or are you stuffed yet, brother? Or, do you want me to serve as well for your little Reich?" He gathered himself together and shrugged his coat to fix it. "I thought we could talk, but no. I'm gone. Goodbye."

Ludwig tossed coins onto the table as his brother stormed out of the public house. He shrugged his uniform jacket to his shoulders. "Fucking hell. Fuck you. Fuck _it_." He snarled, with anger. With self pity. He wanted to embrace Gilbert and just tell him to stop being a dumb shit.

Or was he the dumb shit?

Pitter patter.

Damn. He looked up as he made his way out, trailing the albino like a bloodhound.

Pitter patter.

The splatters of water from the dark clouds illuminated by the moon began to lick at the cobblestoned streets. Great. Just fantastic. Ludwig huddled into his jacket. This was not the ideal situation. Quite the opposite. "Gilbert? _Gilbert?_ Where are you?" He called out, beginning to walk faster to an equine-like canter. "I swear to God, I will end you if you hurt yourself!"

Rain splashed down.

"Leave me alone."

An answer. That was unusual for when the other nation was in a huff. He followed the voice and nearly tackled Gilbert to the ground when he came back in sight. "Come on. Let's not do this. Let's just try and be happy for a little bit. I missed you a lot. You're… You and I can't stand it when you're angry."

"Then don't make me angry."

He sighed. "Alright. My Munich place is just down the road. Let's head down there, get some proper beers down and just relax and try and salvage this evening." Ludwig stroked at the back of his neck. "Please?"

Gilbert paused for a minute. "Alright. Fine. Only because I love you. If I wasn't so awesome, I'd hardly ever agree."

The blond smiled at this. That was the brother he knew. He swung an army over the other nation's shoulders. "Come on. Everything will be all good and fixed and happy." And he was met with only a disgruntled nod.

"I've got the house brew. You usually like that, right?" Gilbert nodded. An expression of conflict draped over his features like a suffocating blanket. The younger of the two placed the alcohol down on the oak wood table, over little knitted cosies. They were pink. "What's with the long face?"

"I've been thinking." Gilbert replied, leaving his beer alone.

"Shock and horror." He chuckled with his own brand of sarcasm. Atypical. But then noticed the lack of attention to the drink. "What's going on?"

"Ludwig. Are you brainwashed by your leader?"

He had to stop and think for a second. "No. Gilbert, you just… Need to give him a chance. He's a lot like me. You need to get to know him and listen to him speak. He's not like anyone else I've ever seen when he speaks." He looks at his brother and sees tears welling up in the corners of the ruby eyes. The nation in front of him shook like a dormouse for reasons Ludwig couldn't understand. "He's helped me so much. I'm growing better. I'm getting big and I want things more. Is that really a bad thing? You've seen so much death. So what if a few suckers get knocked out of the way? People die. That's why we don't get into relationships with them."

A very croaky and repressed "I see." Was the response.

"You're sad." And that made him sad.

"I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

Gilbert avoided the German's eyes for a second, and then couldn't drag them away at all. "I want you to be happy."

"You always make me happy."

"No. I don't." He looked sober. Too sober. Upset. "Ludwig. I'm a fuck up."

"No, you're-"

"Yes, I am and we both know it. So I'll do it."

"Do what? The army?"

"Yes. I'm joining the German army. Or something. Can you help me?" He asks, a trying kind of look on his face.

"Hey, that's a big step forwards." He choked up. Oh god. Was Gilbert… Was Gilbert really doing this for him? He didn't know what to say. "If you can't or don't want to do it, don't force yourself just for me, alright?"

"No. You're a sensible guy. Ever since childhood you were smarter than me with these things. Maybe I should just trust your judgement this time, since you have a real good track record." He gives his younger brother a depressed smile. "Maybe we can make eachother happy. And see one another more often. I'll do things for the Reich and we'll… We'll fix it."

"Sure! I'd love to!" He beams. "I'll get in touch with Himmler and… Oh, he might be a bit difficult now that he has Hunga… Uh, now that he is kind of occupied."

The other nation's eyes flashed open. Blood red bore into the other. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Elizaveta."

"Gilbert, I didn't say any-" He was interrupted by the other roughly grabbing him by his chin.

The peaceful, happy lull had crashed and burnt. "What the fuck happened to Elizaveta?" He's not playing around. His voice is deadly serious, every syllable curt. Every word it's own sentence.

"Jesus, Gilbert. I meant to tell you but I didn't have the time."

"Tell me what?" He snarled, an animal. "Where is she? What did you do to her?"

He, half choked, coughed out a reply. "She's at a camp. We found her a few weeks ago and s-she was taken there as a political prisoner."

"PEOPLE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO CAPTURE HER." He slapped Ludwig across his already pained face. Hard. "YOU DID THIS, DIDN'T YOU? YOU WERE THE ONE TO TAKE HER THERE!"

He was finally let go. Slumped on the ground. Wooden panelling was hard to fall onto, especially with how he felt. "Yes. Okay. Calm down. I did it. But what was I meant to do? Call you up at some point to say, 'ah yes, Gilbert, hi. Sorry for not talking to you for ages but I'm just passing the message on that I kind of nearly killed Hungary and she's kind of a prisoner at Dachau. I hope you don't mind. Alright, bye!'. No, I couldn't say anything."

"YOU COULD HAVE NOT DONE IT." He gets up and screams, taking the glass of beer and smashing it against the wall. Upon impact, a thousand shards of glass fell into his hand and pierced his flesh open. "YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HER. WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO HER NOW? TORTURING HER? RIPPING HER OPEN? YOUR PEOPLE ARE HORRIBLE WHEN IT COMES TO TORTURE. THEY WILL DESTROY HER."

His maw dropped wide open. "Gilbert. You need to stop. Just. Relax. Look, I'm sorry. I'm honestly, actually, properly apologetic right now. But you're hurting yourself and that isn't good. I couldn't have not done it, or that would have been treason. I was just following orders, okay? She will be fine. She can't die. Properly, anyway."

An interruption. "That doesn't make it any better."

"Granted. But it means she's still here with us. Now, look. We'll get you into the army, and you will be just fine and through the army, we'll work at it for a few months and we'll get to talk to her. That'll be good, right?" He tried to embrace Gilbert, but is immediately slapped with a bloody hand. Liquid smearing over his face.

"Don't touch me. Don't even think about touching me." He gets up and storms into the kitchen to look for some kind of bandage to stop the bleeding. A clean dishcloth was good enough. "I'm joining the army alright. But I don't want anything to do with you. At all. I'm going to the local SS base and I am fucking joining and you aren't going to be a part of my life any more. Don't you dare to follow me. Don't you dare speak to me. I am so angry with you right now. This… You. You aren't the Ludwig I raised up." And with that, he paced out of the house, cradling his hand like a newborn. The younger nation's tongue was frozen. He didn't know what to say at all.

Gilbert ran off, head down and completely shutting out everything that wasn't his journey to the office. After a few minutes of processing, the German nation snapped and realised what Gilbert was doing was stupid and got up to hound him down. He had no clue of where his brother had gone off to, and wasted even more time fixing his shoes and coat back on. How had he lost his brother twice in one night. How does someone even lose a brother?

You forget to cherish them.

The albino nation, surprisingly, in his anger had found the location of the local war office and paced in with the fury of the flames of buildings set alight by bombs. Storming and enraged. "I wish to be a part of the German army." The men that were in the room paid little attention to his outburst, and he shouted again, "I WANT TO BE A PART OF THE GERMAN ARMY. SIGN ME UP TO THE REICH."

A man, sitting at a typewriter stopped padding at the keys and looked up, cocking his dark brow. He was presumably in his mid twenties, with russet brown hair and a body type slap bang in the middle between fat and thin. "Excuse me?"

"I said, I want to be a solider. Just sign me up. I don't care what I'm doing. I just need to get to Dachau."

"How old are you? You should have been conscripted into the army years ago."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his pallid nose. "I'm a nation. Brother of yours. I represent Prussia. You're all familiar with Ludwig Beilschmidt, right? I suppose he's your pub-mate."

"I know of him. But I don't believe you." The man at the desk replies curtly. All the others had begun paying close attention to the goings-on of the evening, presumably, otherwise bored out of their minds.

"Fine." He said. Not in the mood for any of this after the previous trouble. His lip curled. "I'm a nation. Through and through. Do whatever you want, kill me and I will revive and recover. Examine me next to my brother. He'll vouch for me. Or, he might not. Whatever. I mean-"

It was then that the nation was shot in the face. Point Blanc.

The man who had been talking to Gilbert stood with his arm outstretched. Gun smoking. Another ran up to the nation, looking at the bleeding hole in his face. He screamed. "_JESUS, SOMMER, WHAT THE FUCK?"_

The man behind the desk shrugged. "I was getting tired of waiting. He was blabbering on and I wanted to see if his money was where his mouth was."

"You just shot him, though!" The man who'd yelled responded, scared. "Fuckalmighty. We need to stop the bleeding. Quick!" But nobody moved, as slowly, but surely, the skin began to heal as the stream of blood dropped to a still.

"Oh my God." The person who had shot him, Sommer, whispered. He took a step back, eyes wide and terrified. "Oh my fucking God, he's coming back. He's regenerating. Holy hell. God in heaven. It's growing back."

The room remained silent as the nation's forehead recovered and his crimson eyes flickered open once more. He took a deep inhale in as his bodily functions re-emerged. Back to the real world. Everything stands still, observant as he remerges into being. "…Whew, that was a trip." He clicked his back and neck, and coughed up some fluid into his hand before shakily getting up. "I hope that this," He prods at the scar that was now forming on his forehead. The original harry potter. "Is proof enough that I'm not human. So. Sign me up."

Sommer shakily runs to find some paperwork, but is interrupted as another emerges from the struck crowd. He finds his way to Gilbert, and gives him a hand to shake. He has prominent eyebrows, through his dark hair and dark eyes. He bore likeness to that of a man who belonged upon the silver screen, minus for the noticeable gap in-between his front teeth. It didn't take away from his amazing good looks, but it was prominent when he spoke. "Could I please talk with you for a moment?" A glimmer of excitation shone in his dark orbs as he scanned Gilbert.

The nation, suspicious, hesitated. But then nodded and followed him. "Who are you? What do you want to speak about?"

"Let me introduce myself." He spoke with a cold warmth, looking the nation up and down. "I go by Josef Mengele. Have you by any chance heard of me?"

**(TBC…)**

**A/N: I'm not going to hold myself back. This story is nothing but shameless and doesn't hold back to be polititcally correct. It features a setting that a lot of people consider a sensitive part of history, and I'm afraid if you're looking for someone writing with Himaruya's delicate nature on the subject, you've come to the wrong place.**

**The Nazis existed. I'm not sure why we like to pretend that Hitler is Voldemort and even mentioning his name or what the Nazis did is so bloody controvertial. Affected people by the holocaust and otherwise are still alive, and they hold my utmost respect and empathy for what happened. It was a shitty period of history. But that's all it was. Yesterday.**

**I personally find the Nazi's really interesting. I'm sorry if that offends you or whatever, but I'm a hobbyist historian and me and my partner have been wanting to publish this for a while. We began writing this roughly last December.**

**Does this romanticise Nazis? Maybe. It certainly doesn't 100% condemn them as complete evil. Because they weren't. They were people. And the longer we treat them as something to NEVER talk about, the more powerful the rememberance of Hitler and what he and his compadres did. **

**So, I'll post a list of potential triggers and here which are mentioned or played out in the story. These are at your discretion. Don't complain to me if you know you can't deal with this and continue reading.**

**Triggers:**

**Nazis, self harm, psychological trauma- damage and torture, torture, rape, concentration/death camps, medical torture, blood, drug usage, smoking, death, eye torture, dub-con, gay porn, eating disorders, mental and physical illness.**

**The worst thing you can image will probably occur here. You have been warned.**

**Enjoy the ride. **

**-KenderickBlazey.**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO: CARVING TO FLESH

Gilbert's nose twitched as he observed delicate lines crumple and form around the edges of the doctor's mouth. He smelt of cologne and rust. "No. I mean, I have no clue who you even are."

"I'm a doctor for the Reich. I conduct various studies upon those around me to make new medical discoveries that could benefit us."

The nation didn't like this one bit. He gazed upon the dark haired doctor with a look of complete and utter distrust. "And why are you talking to me?"

"I thought you could be of help in a mutual partnership. For, you see, through a placement scheme I'm currently administrating over some experiments regarding hypothermia over in Dachau. I feel that we'd both get what we wanted."

The red-eyed nation's heart nearly stopped at the mention of the camp. The side of his pale, pink mouth twitched in anticipation. "And exactly what do you mean by that?"

"We're always in need of people helping to run the camp;" Came the smirk, the doctor was playing with him. Why? "Furthermore, as demonstrated just now, your body is exceptional. I want to study it a little with our modern technology and such to see if it can help me and my work. Granted, I usually work with twins and such, but I think you ought to do me well."

"You want to experiment on me?"

"In essence, yes. You're a remarkable specimen."

Maybe the fact that he was literally being talked about as if he was a slab of meat at the butchers should have driven the nation to some form of suspicion, however, none occurred as the more he thought about the idea, the more appealing it became. Well, not necessarily appealing, but he could easily take the job on, find Hungary and bust her out. Great. That was a good plan, and he wouldn't need anyone else to really be involved.

Especially Ludwig. He didn't want to talk to Ludwig right now.

He wasn't as angry anymore, nor was his fury the reason for his silence. He just needed some time to breathe.

"Let's do it." He finally nods, swallowing saliva and making his adam's apple nervously bob. "Just make it quick. I don't want to regret it and not do it."

"Fantastic." A response with a side dish of a dashing beam. "Follow me."

Meanwhile, Ludwig's head spun as he raced on the cobblestoned streets, so very harsh on his soles. Rain was beginning to pour on him as he flocked through the night, yelling out his brother's name desperately as he searched.

He could feel something bad was happening. Something very, incredibly bad.

He could feel it creaking in his bones and crawling, teasing up his skin. Something horrible. Terrible. Evil. And he could tell Gilbert was involved. Pangs of terror scampered through him like the ringing in the head in that scene in 'The Shining' which nearly froze him raw and caused him to choke up. It was dark and it was terrifying and he just.

He didn't feel right.

Lights inside houses began to flash on despite the darkness as he called for Gilbert and his voice grew more desperate and frantic. More and more primal until the point where they ceased being cries and became no more than wails. He grew soggy from the rain once more but he couldn't care less.

He was the 'sensible one'?

Gilbert had no idea of how wrong he was.

Oh. He stopped. Wait.

Wouldn't he have gone to the local war office to handle his recruitment. Of course! He'd run into trouble since he wasn't conscripted. Oh, good. He could fix this. He began pacing frantically in the direction he knew well.

He could do this. He could stop Gilbert making a mistake.

"So. Tell me about yourself." Mengele smiled, giving his automobile bonnet a quick polishing wipe. "You're the brother of Ludwig Beilschmidt? You think we can get him on board, as well?" He smiled as he let Gilbert in. "I'd love to find things out about him. He'd be very… Beneficial."

Gilbert sat in the back of the car, looking away. "I don't think Ludwig will want to do experiments on himself. I don't want to either so that's another thing. I'll do whatever you want me to as long as we can leave now, that's all I'm asking Mengele." He looked out the window, hands in his lap as gritted his teeth. He was tensed up as he sat there.

Meanwhile, the office doors smashed open and a dripping wet German nation hobbled in. "Gilbert!" Ludwig rushed into the office, where men under the rank instantly shot up and gave him a salute. He did a rushed sieg Heil in return and quickly asked them, "Have you seen my brother? He's albino, just a little shorter than me and pretty dead set on joining the army."

"You just missed him." Came a reply from the man who had spoken to him. "He just went off with Mengele."

He swallowed."...The angel of death." Ludwig gasped. Fuck. He rolled his shoulders and ran off in the direction the man pointed, "GILBERT! WAIT!"

Gilbert then went silent as he went with Mengele. He settled down in the back of the car, his eyes downcast as he gritted his teeth. He pursed his lips and squeezed his hands together tightly. Doing the same with his eyes and knits his brows together. It was obvious that the albino felt guilt for leaving his brother behind, but he has to do this. For Elizaveta, for Ludwig, for Germany and the rest of this broken, wreckage of a world. He let out a shaken breath and looked out the fogged up window.

The car rolled down the cobbled Munich street just as Ludwig raced outside, seeing it drive away much to his despair. He felt like chasing the car down and pulling Gilbert out and telling him that he was sorry and that this was all a bad idea, but he couldn't. He was much too numb. He fell to his knees, crying out like a child. "Gilbert! Bruder!" Maybe if he yelled loud enough, the car would hear him and he'd come back? No. He knew the truth well enough, despite his denial. But the angel of death... Christ. Mengele was a force to be reckoned with. He knew that, he'd seen files of the man's experiments and they sickened him. When he closed his eyes, he heard the screams of the people in the camps. His people. The ones Mengele worked on.

No.

No, no, no. He couldn't let the man have his brother. He raced back inside to question the other men on the doctor's business. Ludwig was going to track them down.


End file.
